Early one Sunday morning a month or so before I married the Big Guy, my father showed up at my place with a box of doughnuts. And when I say “early”, I mean “before 7:00”. Really early. Too damn early to be conscious on a Sunday morning.

Especially since the Big Guy had stayed the night.

Now I realize it really wasn’t all that scandalous, not in this day and age. Especially not since we were both well into our twenties and our wedding was literally weeks away. But I don’t think any father wants to accept the fact that his little girl is no longer a blushing virgin; and no woman looks forward to the confirming that fact to her daddy.

I immediately went into panic mode and told the Big Guy to sneak out the back door.